Months ago she had quit the sea and purchased a house on the land and began to make a nest. It was not so much a home really, more like a refuge against the elements cluttered together quickly for the comfort of herself and her impending infant. The house was unique in its capacity to shut out the moonlight; ever since she had been with child the smell of moonbeams nauseated her. Curtains were hung double and triple over windows and door-frames to keep the luminous beams from sneaking into her room at night.
Complete darkness was necessary to brood over her ever increasing belly. She was very close now, she had "dropped" as Anamaria had said and that meant the baby was soon to come any day now. Lately she had been working herself into a trance massaging her belly before going to sleep. Resting on her side or back was uncomfortable and trying to sleep on her belly was impossible. Sitting upright in the darkness she fell asleep.
The familiar dipping and thrusting of the deck beneath her revealed a ship in calm water. Her dreams were often full of the Empress or the Dutchman. There was a sweet smile on her face when she opened her eyes.
Something was wrong. This was not a ship she had expected, but it seemed eerie and familiar. None of the lamps were lit. The deck was spotless and deserted, glowing white in the moonlight that broke from the clouds. Though the clouds moved there was no wind and the sails hung limp and lifeless. The ship seemed to be floating aimlessly, ghostly in the current of the ocean.
Anxiety filled her and she looked about or anyone or anything utterly familiar and recognizable. She glowed too and looked down to see herself in an old white nightgown from her maidenhood stretched taut over her fecund belly. Bare feet pattered soundlessly across the deck as she cast about in circles.
There. Behind her. Shoes clack, clack, clacking across the deck. Coming closer. She whirled around with a scream. Clutching her chest she breathed deeply in relief to see a familiar face, "Oh, James…you gave me such a fright!"
James smiled bewilderingly at her, showing his crooked teeth bashfully and said, "Elizabeth, what are you doing here?" Elizabeth looked him up and down, he was in an old uniform – a commodore's uniform and there was a soft haze about his form.
"I'm dreaming. James, do you know where we are?" Norrington was bemused by all of this and replied, "Why, the Dauntless, of course." Elizabeth relaxed. Nothing bad would happen on the Dauntless. She would not have to watch James die, like on the Dutchman, or be pursued by ghastly creatures, like on the Black Pearl.
"How are you, James?" "Dead." "Well…yes." "Are you dead too, Elizabeth?" "No!" The moon was obscured by clouds and only the starlight illuminated them. "Why are you here then?" "I told you – I'm dreaming." "I suppose …how are you, Elizabeth?"
"Fat." "Who is the father?" "Will, of course!" "Oh. I thought it might have been Sparrow, in the end." "I love Will." "Yes." The moon lifted away from the clouds and James suddenly came into focus before her. "Why did you love Will, Elizabeth? Why did you choose him?"
Why did you not choose me? was the question that went unasked. In dreams there is truth – absolute truth - that cannot be told in any other altered state.
"I did not want to wait for you," Elizabeth said. It was a shock to James, he had never considered that agenda before and could not comprehend it now, "What do you mean?"
"I did not want to wait for you to come back. I did not want to worry what would happen if you never came back – or if you came back un-whole. I wanted control and I knew I'd have none of it with you."
James staggered back, white in the face, at the force of Elizabeth's unveiled selfishness. "Is that all it was about? Truly, Elizabeth, I would have done anything for you."
Elizabeth flashed a smile like cut glass, "That's a lie, James, and if you search your heart you know it to be true – it's a lie you wish desperately not to tell, but still a lie." She held up a hand to keep him silent and continued, "I may have played the coquette with Sparrow, but it was nothing more than a means to an end. There was no promise there. Jack has the Pearl just as you have your duty, but Will only ever had me."
Elizabeth was right and James was struck by his own unacknowledged selfishness. Indeed, there would have been times when James would have put his duty before Elizabeth's whims and desires.
Elizabeth laughed, "It's rather amusing, you know, now that after all that I have to wait for Will. Thank God, it's only ten years wait and I am his everything." James frowned at her, his face still white, his thoughts still reeling, "What do you mean?"
"Will is captain of the Dutchman now. He stabbed the heart of Davy Jones and freed his father from bondage. Now he must be her captain for ten years before he earns his freedom. Nine years and nearly three months. I can wait - for all our sakes."
"Elizabeth. Something is wrong," James said, staring at her thighs and Elizabeth looked down to see blood, black and slick in the moonlight, seeping down her nightgown. "Oh! Oh! James! It must be time-" James grabbed her by her forearms, "Elizabeth, did you die in childbed?"
"James! The baby is coming – I wonder if this is just a dream or if it's real!" Elizabeth paid no attention to James and tried to unstick her nightgown from her bloody thighs. Horrified, James understood everything and smacked Elizabeth across the face. Hard.
Elizabeth cried out and staggered back from him, clutching her face. "What was that for!" she cried and backed away from him. "Elizabeth, you must wake up! Something is wrong, you are not supposed to be here!"
"No, no, no, no, no. Nothing bad can happen here. This is the Dauntless. Not the Pearl, not the Dutchman. This is not a ship of nightmares," Elizabeth said to herself, back away from James, splashing blood on the pristine deck.
"Oh, but this is a ship of nightmares, Elizabeth. Many men have died here, died awfully," James said as he advanced on her. "Look around you, Elizabeth, you will see."
Elizabeth did see, she saw the sharp focus of him as he came towards her, no faint nimbus as when he first appeared in her dream. His shoes stepped into her puddles of blood and when she looked about for an escape she saw terrible things. The blood that her feet smooched along the deck was not just hers, but the blood of dead sailors and marines.
Elizabeth screamed. She had forgotten the slaughter Barbossa's skeleton crew had inflicted on the Dauntless and now she relived it in the dream. "Wake up, Elizabeth, wake up," James said as he drew his sword on her. She expected to see the skeleton crew at any moment, expected James to suddenly turn into a skeleton himself.
"What are you doing?" Elizabeth screamed at him when her back hit the wall of the cabin and she could go no farther. She sobbed in fear. "My duty," James said as he aimed the tip of the sword at her.
"James! Stop this madness! You can't do this! If I'm not there when Will gets back - he'll be trapped forever! James? JAMES?" "I know," James said, looking infinitely sad, yet determined, "I love you more than you will ever know. Now, wake up, Elizabeth. Please."
Elizabeth screamed as he stabbed her below her heart…
…and she woke up screaming.
"Elizabeth! Elizabeth!" came Anamaria's voice from the next room. She opened the door and threw the curtains aside. Grasping Elizabeth, she shook her out of her terror and into hysteria. Anamaria could not understand just what she was saying, but she saw the blood pooling in the sheets and knew something was wrong. She dipped her fingers into the blood and brought them to her nose: Elizabeth's water had not yet broke.
"Come, stand up, I'll help you walk," Anamaria said as she helped Elizabeth out of bed and threw her arm over her shoulders and began to walk in circles around the room. Elizabeth's water needed to break or else she would die and the child too. She walked a sobbing Elizabeth in circles until they were both tired. Nothing seemed to be happening, except Elizabeth was in ever increasing pain with no relief.
"I must call her, Elizabeth, there is nothing else I can do," Anamaria told her as she set her back into bed. "No, no, no," Elizabeth moaned, "she frightens me!" "It must be done, if you want the poor mite to be born, if you wish to live. Be still, I will call her and be back as soon as I can."
Anamaria left Elizabeth in her room and went to hers. She picked up the lei she was working on the past day and brought it outside with her. Down the hill she went, picking night blooming flowers along the path and adding them to the circlet of flowers, seaweed, and leaves. She reached level ground and walked towards the beach where the surf was a gentle hiss.
The sand was cool, but when she waded into the surf the water was a little warmer than expected and when she was in waste deep, the water crashing against her and knocking her about, she threw the flowered wreath into the sea and waded back to shore. Anamaria sat on a piece of driftwood and waited, hoping the goddess would come.
Lighting split the sea and Anamaria jumped at the explosion of brightness and sound. Blinded by the light, Anamaria did not see the goddess walk calmly up out of the waves with the flowered crown upon her head. Deafened by the thunder, she did not hear the goddess remark how this child would have two godmothers as well as two godfathers.
Anamaria stumbled up after her towards the house and hoped her senses would return to normal once they reached the summit. Doors opened themselves for the goddess and curtains parted as though held back by invisible hands. Black eyes and black teeth glittered in the pale light as they appraised the young woman in labor.
"Now den, child, ye are in a bad way. Aye, yur water needs ta break and the poor mite's cord needs cuttin' if ye're both ta live. But ye need na ta worry, I ha' done dis many times afore. Be na afraid," the goddess said and set to work on Elizabeth, occasionally giving instructions to Anamaria.
Come morning, Elizabeth and Anamaria were both a mess. Elizabeth dozed on the bed and Anamaria's head lolled against the wall were she sat on a stool. Tia Dalma, known as the goddess Calypso, sat in the rocking chair with the child rocking back and forth, back and forth.